Aftermath
by NewGirl08
Summary: Yesterday we fought. Today we live. Tomorrow we'll win The aftermath after the Battle for Winterfell
1. ARYA

Silence... All was silence.

_Have I gone mad?_ Arya thought as she surveyed her surroundings.

It was like one of those large paintings she had seen when she was little inside the Red Keep. A large living canvas with striking vivid colors. The red from the leaves gave you a warm sensation as if they where on fire. The pearl white snow breathed a gust of life through the wind versus the all consuming black death that eternally fought its antithesis.

_See with your eyes girl._ Syrio had said. "I am going mad" Arya whispered to the air, this wasn't a painting, this wasn't a bad dream. This was real. The leaves of the weirwoods were actually on fire; victim of one of the dragons, the gust of wind was hers trying to breathe properly after almost having her throat crushed. And the dead was certainly the most real, the dead bodies everywhere she looked the proof of it.

"I am going mad"- she said. Her whole body started to shake with a fear she honestly could say was the worse she'd ever felt.

"No you're not. Its the adrenaline from the battle, you're going to feel it now"- Bran said.

She had forgotten he was there. Here, in the Godswood, surrounded by this dreamlike scenario, her little brother was the most phantom like of all.

"Its over sister. You ended it. Take my hand"- he said. But Arya couldn't move, she was frozen. Her heart was beating at an abnormal rate and her throat was closing as if that thing still had her in its grasp. "Take my hand Arya"- Bran spoke again, this time with more authority. More Bran, less whatever he was now "They'll want to see you"-

This made her snap. She didn't want to see anyone. She needed air, she needed to get out. They were going to die, they were all going to die.

She ran. _I can't take Bran with me, he'll only slow me down and I won't die._ Her breathing was failing and she started to feel lightheaded. She saw shadows of dead men moving in the entrance of the Godswood. She clutched her dagger with intent but there were too many. She needed to get out or she'd be another dead body on the floor.

There was a door right beside the entrance. A separate entrance to the castle that no one ever used sans her mother. She ran towards it and once inside she knew she had made a grave mistake. _"Must you actively look for your mother's scoldings child?"-_ her father's voice rang in her head.

She had done it now. Her feet where covered in mud, already soiling the entrance to the sept, her stench from practicing and fighting with the boys since dawn was spoiling the rich lavender scent that floated in the air. Her mother made them pray to the Seven at least once a week but Arya never cared for them, she felt at peace with the Old Gods like her father, but she respected the sept just the same... or maybe she feared more her mother's wrath.

She put down the little wooden sword she used for practicing and took off her shoes so she wouldn't dirty up the floor further more. She searched for the oils her mother used to cleanse the sept and if she was here she might as well light a candle or two. Yes, her mother and septa would definitely like that. It was a place of love; her mother had said, her father had the sept built specially for their mother once he learned he had to marry her.

But there was only one problem. She was too little to light the candle, she couldn't reach it. It was always Rob or her mother's task to lit the candles once the prayers began.

"Do you need some help young lady?"-

Arya turned around to see her mother standing at the entrance. She wore a dark green gown and her hair was braided in a long ponytail.

"Mother!" Arya cried. "Oh mother, I've missed you!"

Her mother laughed engulfing her in a warm embrace. When was the last time she saw her mother? She remembered a distant dream, of her swimming in a river surrounded by banners. A wicked dream it was.

"Come, pray with me since we are together"- Catelyn said lighting a candle. Curiously enough once she held it close to her body Arya noticed she was wearing a scarf, and it had little drops of blood around her neck.

"Now child, don't just stand there. Don't you want to pray to your God?"- catelyn said, turning around and setting the candle in front of the Stranger.

The walls quickly changed and she found herself in Braavos, buried in the walls of the house of Black and White.

Her mother now walked towards the small fountain and gathered water in a small cup offering to her. "Drink. This will make you feel better"- the woman said, for it was, yet it wasn't her mother at the same time. Her hands were pale and scarred, her hair was lifeless and blotchy, she wore all black but with no scarf to hide the hideous gash in her neck. No, this is not my mother; Arya thought. This is another test.

When she didn't move her mother ran towards her so fast that Arya couldn't react. She grabbed her by the throat, making her feet dangle in the air. "Look at you, what have you done to your hair?"- her mother spat at her. "No one will marry you now"- Arya now realized that she was in her apprentice grabs and her hair was starting to grow back again.

As her mother squeezed her throat harder, Arya's vision began to blur but she never fought back. She was tired, so tired! She was tired of running, tired of being scared, of being alone in the world and seeing her loved ones taken away from her.

With a nod her mother understood. Pride in her ice blue eyes. She offered her the cup again but as she was about to drink it she heard someone.

"ARYA! ARYA! PLEASE, WHERE ARE YOU?"- A man's voice, deep with a feeling strong behind the words.

On pure instinct Arya slapped the cup away. Her mother made a horrible shriek making her ears bleed. Catelyn dropped her violently on the floor, her lack of strength making Arya take a blow right in the head as she fell. She felt dizzy again and her throat hurt.

"Let's see what your Old Gods can do to help you now you stupid girl"- her mother spat. But was it her mother? Her voice sounded like Cersei, Jaqen and her mother at the same time.

_Tricks, all dirty tricks designed for you to lose._ Arya found herself alone yet again, this time inside a small room. She was battered, and broken but most of all she was so, so tired.

She laid down over bags of grain and closed her eyes not before she lit a yellow candle in front of the door.

_I shall pray to the Smith and he will protect me. He will protect me as will you mother, as will father and Rob the warrior. The long night ended. I ended it._

_I will not die._

_Not today._

She finally fell asleep and the smith indeed came for her cradling her in his arms. He pried the dagger from her fingers and they both fell asleep.

* * *

**This is a companion for my other story What Should Have Been.**

**Feel free to check it out and leave your review**

**XOXO**


	2. SANSA

The dead were defeated.

Countless corpses from the army of the undead and the army of the living scattered throughout Winterfell; its castle, its Goodswood, Wintertown and nearby hills.

Death & snow. It was like one of those sad tales Old Nan told them. Arya used to loved them, the more death the better, but Sansa although scared would focus on the sadness that surrounded the characters. What happened after the tale ended? Did they sail to a land far away? Did they roamed Westeros as ghosts that had no resting place? Sansa gripped the dragonglass fiercely.

Maester Wolkan was the one who noticed her hands were bloody but she refused to let herself aided. _'See that the wounded are taken care of first'-_ her voice wobbly and frail. Was that her voice? Was she a ghost now? She gripped the blade even tighter.

The last time she saw her sister she had given it to her. _'If you think something is wrong don't be afraid to use it'-_ Arya had said, serious and cutting. She missed her fiery sister.

"I don't know how to use it" She replied nervously. Grabbing the blade from the wrong side nipping a finger.

"Stick them with the pointy end"- her sister had said. The rise of her eyebrow communicating the message. _Stay safe_, and possibly_ don't get killed_. That was the last time she had seen her sister, she had prayed for her then, for her brothers, for Lady Brienne and for Theon. Now she emerged from the crypts and hoped that the Old God's had heard her.

People were dead. People she knew and people who where complete strangers to her. It was all evident in front of her eyes, it's not like it wasn't expected, they were the underdogs, but still the decimation was a blow to the heart.

Sansa stood in front of the entrance for the crypts. Carefully counting and taking notice of every face that went out. Which groups they belonged to, which level they were placed. Some would never come back.

"My Lady..."- Sansa bristled and spun around, the dragonglass blade poorly aimed at the woman in front of her.

She had hard features, short hair and a kraken on her breastplate.

"I'm sorry to startle you Lady Sansa"- the woman said, her hands up in a non threatening manor. "But time is at haste. I'm here to take you back to the ships. We must retreat to the Iron Islands immediately"-

"But we won" Sansa replied. Her voice with a childlike tone to it. She wished she could be steel, she wished she could be a knight. She wished she could be Arya.

"You did My Lady. But the fallen are many. There is to be a burning of the bodies and we are nothing but sitting ducks here for another threat."-

"Who are you?" _Trust no one;_ Arya had said, and she had been right. "Where is Theon?" She said, signaling towards the proud kraken.

It was now that Sansa realized that the woman had been crying, her eyes glassy not from the surrounding fire and smoke but from tears.

"My name is Yara my Lady. Of House Greyjoy and ruler of the Iron Island. I have sided with the Dragon Queen and it was my brother's wish to find you before anything. Theon is no more."-

She ran. It was on instinct. The Godswood was their safe haven. The hell with everybody else! It's her family she should be looking for.

She ran, she fell, she tumbled and slipped but she kept on going.

Still among devastation the Godswood held its magic. Random fires making the red leafs seem like red lights in the skies, the many faces an audience for a bloody play. There was a man standing in the middle of it all. Besides the pool were his reflection seemed one with the trees.

"Jon!" Sansa cried running towards him. At the last minute he held her at bay but then she realized she still had the blade in her hands.

Their embraced was with roaming hands. Not invasive like Ramsay's nor incestuous like the Lannisters. It was a father's touch after having fallen down. _Are you hurt? Are you ok? Each stroke said. _

"Where's Bran? What happened? Theon... Theon..."

"Breathe Sansa, slowly"- Jon said stroking her hair. "The bait worked but he was too strong. Theon fought with honor but it wasn't enough. We had to unleash the dragons"-

"And Brandon?" She asked from the crook of his neck, afraid to see the news on his face before his words.

"Safe. Badly hurt from the fires but alive. He's already on the ships. You're supposed to be there, what are you doing here?-

"Arya. I can't find Arya."

"I can't find her as well"- Jon replied making her breath come short again "the last time I saw her she was in the towers with the archers, I know nothing else"-

No... Sansa whimpered. Not her, not Arya. She was too stubborn to die. She was too young to die. She was the only sister she had for her to die and leave her alone in the frozen graveyard. "We have to find her."

"I need to get you on that ship. I'll find..."-

"No. We have to find her" Sansa begged. _You can't leave me if she's dead, I can't stand it;_ she pleaded with her eyes. Jon held her closer and kissed to top her her head. He smelled like smoke and burned meat and she smelled like sweat and fear.

They left the Goodswood hand in hand. Jon holding her steady navigating her through the bodies with his hand still on his sword. Sansa noticed he was no worse than she was, His eyes looked crazed and his hand twitched on his pummel every time someone came near them while Sansa herself was left in dismay at not recognizing which part of the castle they where in.

Everything was burned and torn down. The damage was even farther than what the Ironborne and the Boltons had done in the passing. _'Home is not a place. We're Winterfell. Arya, Bran and Jon'_ Sansa repeated over and over in her head. She saw Lady Brienne sitting motionless while Podrick bandaged her shoulder, he wasn't finished yet the dressing were already red.

"You struck the blow Snow?"- the Kingslayer asked making Sansa gasp.

Honestly, she hadn't even noticed he was their right beside Brienne. This mas was not Jaime Lannister, it wasn't just the filth he was covered in. It was in his lack of bravado and sad eyes that screamed defeat._ When the cold comes you won't hear any lions roar._ Sansa looked over the crowd to check if Tyrion was back. She didn't know why, he'd said he'd look for her once he found out what happened to the Dragon Queen. Their relationship was one of many layers and today they discovered a new one that had brought them closer. She'd dwell on it later.

"No. It wasn't me"- Jon replied, dragging Sansa's attention back at the conversation. Sansa had seen Jon in battle. He was fearless and fought with vigor, like the heroes of the old songs.

"Was it the Queen? Daenerys?"- Brienne asked. Podrick was now bandaging her left leg. It must have been something fierce since the squire very gently suggested they resume the conversation after she was seen by a maester.

"It was Arya."- Jon said. Awe, fear, respect and doubt in his voice.

She was alive and apparently had done the impossible but the news only had made Sansa even more nervous. She had seen the corpses rise right in front of her and her sister had apparently gone head to head with their leader. Where was she?

"Has anyone seen her?" Sansa asked but she received the same answer as before.

Brienne was badly hurt. One could say she was a tough woman but she wasn't invincible, she between Jon, Jaime and Podrick carried her inside the castle. Although it was breached; inside it's walls still stood tall. The great hall acting as a makeshift nursery that maesters and anyone that knew how to stitch was now helping the wounded.

_ She's alive Sansa, she'll come out once she fells like herself again. It happens to all of us-_ Jon had said leaving her alone inside the great hall, he said he had to look for the Dragon Queen and the rest of his men. He was doing his duty as should she but was it too hard to just let her see her sister first?

"My Lady, please. Let me see your hand"- Ser Davos said. It didn't surprise Sansa that Davos magically appeared after Jon left, he never left her alone. Ever... _oh gods where was Ghost?! _

As one of the many maesters that arrived at Winterfell with their Lord liege Davos sat next to Sansa visibly tired and shaken. He had a shoulder that didn't look right and was favoring his right leg.

"I'm sorry to ask but may I ask you about your sister. The younger Lady Stark?"-

"We haven't seen her since it all ended" Sansa replied not even looking at him. Her eyes were glued at the entrance and every single body who came in.

"I've never seen anyone fight like her before... she was, I can't even explain it"-

"Was she injured Ser Davos?"

"I couldn't tell you my Lady. I don't think so, you don't move like she did if you were hurting"- Suddenly screams where heard. A part of the outside wall collapse landing over several people. Women where screaming, men where dying, the servants were missing, hiding or still dead. Sansa needed to be strong and be the Lady of Winterfell. She needed to believe in Jon's words, she needed to believe in her little sister. She needed to do her duty and she did.

* * *

Sansa shielded her eyes away from the sun as she walked from the great hall. What time was it? What day was it? She had just aided one of the maesters with a birth. The mother had died but the babe lived; no one knew who the woman was, if the father was alive or death. It was chaos that left Sansa wondering what was the plan the gods had set for them.

Daylight brought an even more depressing view. Now you could see a clear face (or what was left of it) and sigils of the dead.

Had they really won? They were alive but tell that to the nameless baby with no one to claim him as theirs. It was a cruel world and Sansa looked at the sky deciding right them and there that she would not bare any children.

For afar she could see the door to the smithy open, out came the one who was in charge. The young lad Jon had brought with him. He was handsome and strong, she had caught various serving girls giggling and fighting for who was going to bring him his food. Sansa supposed they were right; he was handsome. But there was something oddly familiar about him that Sansa couldn't put her finger on.

He walked dazed as if he just woke up. But froze once he saw Sansa. He saw him stand a little taller (which was a lot since he had a respectable height) and walk straight over to her.

"My Lady. I'm sorry to disturb you but it's about your sister"-

"Arya? Have you seen her?" Sansa stood immediately on alert

"Yes, she is in the storage room. I..."- Sansa didn't stay to hear anymore. She shouted Jon's name, someone was bound to tell the King she needed him.

She ran directly to the store room and just like the Smith said, there, laying over grains of corn laid her sister sound asleep. She tried to wake her up to no avail. The Smith said he tried to do the same but failed, he started to worry because of the nasty gash she had on the side of her face._ She's always been such a light sleeper, I went to get some help when she wouldn't wake up-_ he had said. Sansa had saved that comment for later. Men and apparently women, did stupid things in the eve of war.

Arya was caked in blood so it was difficult to see if it was blood for her wounds or from the fallen. Sansa began to touch her, prodding for any cuts when she flinched at a large scar in her belly. _Those are old;_ the Smith had said.

"Who are you? She demanded

"I'm was her friend... I am her friend. We're pack" the man said and Sansa know knew all that she needed.

Jon and other men had finally arrived. We need to get her to a maester Sansa had said. The closest one was the Wildling; Thormund. He went to carry Arya when the Smith blocked him and told him to stay away "She doesn't like it when people touch her!"

Who is this man? Why does he know her sister? Why does he know her habits and old wounds? But more importantly why was he carrying Arya like she was the most precious thing in the world? Sansa didn't care. Because for her Arya was the most important thing in the world. And if this Smith thought the same then Sansa knew she was going to let things slide for her sister.

Sansa loved her sister and her sister loved her back. They were a pack and that pack had survived, apparently with a new member.

Winter came, but the pack survived


	3. JON

A bastard, a black bother, a traitor, a northern king and apparently now the ruler of the seven kingdoms. Yet Jon Snow was more confused than he had ever been in his life.

He wanted to be free, that he knew. He wanted to be free and loved but to achieved those things he need her to wake up. His little sister. His cousin?

It had been 4 days since the battle for Winterfell and Arya failed to wake up. No one knew why, the maesters surely didn't. The only assurance was Bran's cryptic: "she'll wake up once she realizes its safe"- whatever the hells that meant before his eyes went white again and left them with more questions.

Arya had killed the Night King. That they knew of. Yet no one saw her in the battle.

Davos claimed he did but his tale was more fantasy than reality saying Arya took more than 10 wights all on her own. Beric Dondarrion had died saving her and the Hound last saw her running inside the castle. It was Brienne and Sansa that stood behind Bran. _'She's the most skilled fighter I've ever encountered'_ said the tall knight while Sansa stood hours by her slumbering form completely sure she'd wake up _'she's the strongest person I know'_ Sansa had said with nothing but pride in her voice.

Just when Jon thought he couldn't possibly feel more scared no one had seen Arya. Bran said she had ran just moments before he arrived to the Godswood but no one knew where she was. It was nearly midday the day after the battle that she was found. Davos said that Gendry had found her and true enough she was fast asleep inside the storage room next to the smithy. She was caked in blood but what scared Jon the most was how the Smith had failed to let anyone carry her to the ships and that Arya's only sign of life was when she tossed and mumbled the bastards name.

Gendry said nothing tho._ Its our story, hers and mine._ Gendry had said once Jon snapped and tried to beat him to speak. Davos had held him back._ I'm sorry I didn't say anything before but I thought she was dead, we found each other again and I'll speak to you once I talk to her first._ Surprisingly it was Sansa who sided with him, even permitting him to sit with Arya for hours just like Jon did waiting for her to wake up.

"Wake up little sister. Please wake up" he said ruffling up the brown locks Sansa had dutifully brushed every morning. She had short hair now, Jon noticed. She also all together stopped wearing dresses, without their father and Catelyn it made sense Arya wouldn't listen to anyone really. She'd been on her own since her father's murder, Brienne's encounter with the Hound the only proof of her life.

Jon had talked to him, the Hound. It was the second day Arya failed to wake up that Jon found the Hound sleeping beside her, his sword in his hand and his muddy feet on the bed. Once he woke up he'd been pretty clear:

_"Walked the riverlands once I took her from that sorry lot the brotherhood was. Took a beating then she left me to die. Thought she'd go running to you on the Wall"- and that was it._

Where did she learn how to fight? Where did she go? He was told she killed Littlefinger without blinking an eye, and people feared her saying the youngest Lady doesn't talk to anyone. Her comings and goings are never seen and he heard servants say that often times she didn't sleep in her bed for days. Although disturbing things Jon didn't address them, they had the night king to worry about making everything seem trivial but now, after everything that happened Jon needed answers. He needed answers and someone to vent to.

After burning the dead and sailing to the Iron Islands Daenerys had given him a week to join her in Dragonstone, the next step was defeating Cersei but was that even his job? The few northerners that survived rallied behind the girls since Jon bent the knee, if he went to support Daenerys would the men even follow him? And if so what of his parentage? If the world got out it would be messy to have so many claimants to the throne. Westeros was still hurting from the war of the 5 kings.

He would confide his parentage to both of his sisters, not Sansa alone. He wasn't joking when he told Arya he needed her help with Sansa; she was just as stubborn as they where and seemed to make her plans to what she thought was right. No, he needed Arya, he needed his little sister on his corner defending him no matter what! But first he needed her to wake up.

"You look like I feel. Pained"- she rasped.

"For fucks sake Arya!" Jon howled. Leave it to Arya to scare him to death after being sick for her.

She smiled but grimaced in pain. She winced as she touched the wound on her head. It was quite the blow that covered part of her face and that was definitely going to leave a mark. _Now we match_; Jon thought sadly remembering the little girl who idolized him.

"Water"- she said, he reached for a glass but Arya was faster reaching for the jug that was next to the bed drinking straight from it. Water dripped from her mouth to her shirt but she didn't care.

"More?" Jon asked one she emptied it.

"Yes please"- she said. This time accepting a cup. As she drank it Jon could see her looking at her surroundings, it was a meticulous stare, one that drank every detail. "I smell the sea"-

"We"re in the sea. We're in Pyke. Have you seen the sea? Jon asked.

"Not this part" - Arya shrugged continuing drinking water.

_When you talk to Arya you have to make sure what kind of questions you ask her._ Sansa had briefly said to him once he returned to Winterfell.

_"What do you mean?"_

_It means that if she doesn't want to answer your questions she likes to play games with you. If she doesn't like your intentions she'll confuse you and close herself off. Just make sure your intentions are true._

_"What do you mean if my intentions are true? She's my sister, I'd give my life for her wellbeing!_

_Sansa gave him a sad smile and a kiss on his cheek before leaving. "Its been a while since someone took care of us Jon. We don't know what that is anymore"-_

Yet it was the opposite for Jon. He had them back: Sansa, Bran, Arya. And after so much death and loss he'd taken just as they were. He still loved them and hoped they loved him back.

Arya was a mistery now though. His once effervescent sister was as cold and silent as his wolf. Even Ghost showed signs of affection yet Arya showed none. Their first embrace in the Goodswood their first and only one. Since then he could see her back away from anybody that tried to touch her... Yet Gendry.

"Is there still a home for us?"- she asked.

"There will be. We left Winterfell in hands of workers that want to see the Hero of dawn safe and content in her home" Arya rolled her eyes.

"Although something tells me you'd prefer the title of Kingslayer than the former"

Arya smirked "it depends on which monarch I get to kill"- and there it was, that slick smile she now had, it wasn't the same innocent cheerful smile she had when they were children. It was different, crueler, cold and mocking. Ramsay Bolton had that smile. Jon shivered and Arya noticed. Lifting her eyebrow quite honesty the only part of her body that showed any kind of feelings.

"Sansa's safe isn't she? You haven't said anything and I don't feel like something happened to her"-

"No, she's safe and has been looking after you everyday. All of us have"

"We're a small family. There's just three of us and Bran"-

"There's also Lady Brienne. The Hound. And Gendry...how do you know Gendry?

"Are you telling me that Sandor Clegane played nurse after me?"- Arya laughed but she wasn't fooling him.

"Don't dodge my question Arya. What is Gendry to you?"

"What is the dragon Queen to _you_?"- Sansa's words lingered in his head 'if she doesn't want to answer your questions she likes to play games with you'

"She's complicated... I respect her"

"Gendry is not complicated and he respects me"- she shrugged, stretching her limbs and grimacing. Jon tried another way into her head.

"Who thought you how to fight?

"No One"-

"You're not answering any questions Arya!"

"Of course I am. You're just not listening!"-

"You're awake!"- Gendry said barging inside the room. Apparently they've been shouting.

The look Arya gave Gendry was all Jon needed to know...Ygritte used to look at him like that.

She gave him a small smile. And nodded. "I'm just talking with my brother. I promise I'll call on you once we're done"-

"I'll be waiting outside m'lady. Your grace"- Gendry said closing the door again.

_She's my sister but she's not little anymore. She's a grown woman and has lived a life without me just as I did the moment I left to the Wall._

"Can I have some more water?"-

"Of course" Jon offered her her third pitcher. This time she drank more slowly and bit her lips making Jon smile. Whoever she was with couldn't take away that little habit of hers.

"Look..."- she said not looking at him. "I know you have been lost in a foreign land. I've know that you have loved and lost and that you have trusted and been betrayed. All of that has happened to me Jon, it hasn't been easier nor harder. I haven't died but almost did and I have the same scars you have to prove it.

You once told me that different paths often lead to the same castle and we both made it home. Just don't ask me how because I'm not ashamed that my hands are tainted with blood. I'm ashamed of how you'll look at me once you know how much I like it"-

Gray eyes held gray eyes captive. It was a starring match that whatever it was Arya saw in his eyes was enough for her to smile and break contact.

"Father would be proud of you. Of me? He would say I was better off with the Silent Sisters mother often threatened me with"-

They both laughed at that. A welcomed break from their conversation.

"I am" he said after a beat, taking her hand in his. This time she didn't flinch.

"You're what?"

"Proud of you. I always was and I always will" Jon hoped she truly knew it.

"You should rest" he said standing and given her a kiss on her head. "There's something important about me I want to discuss but I need you clear headed first. Sleep and I'll come back later"

Arya instantly agreed yawning and snuggling in her furs. "OK. Send Gendry will you?"-

"I thought we agreed you needed to rest?"

"We did. I sleep better when he's next to me"-

"Arya..."

"Look, that part I can tell you. I'll tell you everything about Gendry just not right now ok? I need to speak to him first"-

_She's a woman grown._ Jon reminded himself as he opened the door and Gendry looked him straight in the eye, no hiding, standing straight and tall. "Waters" he acknowledged him.

"Snow"- he said not missing a beat.

He was about to close the door when Arya called him back. "Jon!"- Gendry already sitting next to her on the bed inspecting the wound on her head. "We fought the battle with the dead. Now we get to live"-

She smiled at him, the old smile, her true smile and everything was ok, at least for that exact moment in time.

"Aye, now we live little wolf"


End file.
